Into the Dark
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: A sortof songfic to Death Cab for Cutie's 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark'. Rated for mild angsty themes.
1. Chapter 1

**_Another day, another fanfic. Well... I listened to the song 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark' by Death Cab for Cutie, and this is the love child (along with a 'Starsky and Hutch' two-parter. Sorry if this one is a bit weird. The next part (I'll not commit myself to half) i from BJ's PoV, while this first one is Hawkeye and Trapper AS FRIENDS._**

**_Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own the wonderful characters of Hawkeye Pierce and 'Trapper' John McIntyre. Nor do I own BJ Hunnicutt in the next part of the story. I don't own the lyrics to 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark'. Death Cab for Cutie does._**

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I had only known you a day when I knew we would hit it off. You were funny and didn't want to be here. I was funny and didn't want to be here. We liked to play tricks, hated Frank Burns and the Army, and loved the nurses and drinking. It was only a week before we were inseparable, and, after just two weeks, we would be willing to do anything for each other, even die. We built the still in our tent for our own liver-rotting purposes… and to make Frank angry, of course. Oh, we pissed Frank and Hot Lips off so many times, it's hard to keep track of them all, isn't it? Trapper, we had such good times and some scary ones, too. Like the time we were headed back from the 8055th from dropping off a patient with the rest of his company, and the Chinese (or the North Koreans… whatever, they're both Communist and trying to kill us) shelled the road right in front of us. You slammed on the brakes so hard, we both probably should've gotten whiplash. We jumped out of the jeep and into the bushes with Olympic-athlete speed. Then, they blew up our jeep, too. Shrapnel just went all over the place, one piece grazing my neck, another tearing through the outside of your arm. You were frightened when I cried out in pain and grabbed my neck, blood trickling through my fingers. You hastily began scrambling to put your own hand over the wound.

"Wait, Trap, just look at it," I said, "We'll move our hands, and you have check on it. 'Kay, Trap?"

You looked very scared, but you nodded and took your hand from on top of mine. I made to move my hands, but I stopped. I was afraid it was bad; I didn't want to bleed out. I paused in fear for my life. Then you, ever so gently, moved my hands from my neck, and I wasn't scared anymore. You took off your Army shirt (you know, that awful green one we all had to wear _all_ the time) and started ripping it up for a bandage for my neck. You didn't seem to care that night was falling, and that it was getting colder, and you probably wish you had on more than just your T-shirt later on. We moved closer together to keep each other warm but mostly to keep _you_ warm. We were huddled in the underbrush, hoping the enemy didn't come marching down the road in front of us, especially since they would be able to hear us right away from how much we were shaking. You were shivering way more than I was, though. Eventually, without even asking, you snaked your arms around my waist, under my unbuttoned Army shirt, and I accepted it without a word, putting my own arms around you. It was there we remained until morning, and, when there was no sign of the enemy, we emerged from our hidey-hole.

"Well, Hawk, I guess we got a bit of a walk ahead of us," you said with that smirk you always have, "Better get started."

I agreed, so we began walking. It was not too far down the road when I stopped suddenly. You turned to look at me. All I said was "Your arm, Trap," and took one of the leftover pieces of shirt and bound up the wound. Once I had finished, we looked at each other for a moment. Then, we threw our arms around each other in the tightest embrace in the history of friendship. I don't know about you, but I, in that moment, decided that I would do anything for you, even follow you into the dark.

But, now, you're gone, Trap, and there is someone else, another man, sleeping in the bed you occupied only a night ago. And I am sitting here on my cot, writing this, not knowing if you'll ever read it… and I am crying softly, so I don't wake Frank or BJ (the new guy in your old cot). I miss you already… and I can't follow you anymore.

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**_sniff Makes me a bit sad just reading it myself... and I wrote it! Anyhoo, just hold on for chapter 2!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Sorry it took me so long to get part two up, but I had lots of stuff to prepare for, like prom and New Jersey State FFA Convention. This is a sort of missing scene from 'Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen'... basically my idea of the catalyst which brought Sidney to the 4077th. Enjoy!_**

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_Dear Hawkeye,_

_I know that you probably aren't too thrilled with us right now and that you probably don't even want to hear from me, but I have to tell you that I miss you. I wish you didn't have to leave, but Col. Potter was adamant. There was no way you'd be able to stay in Potter's eyes. I wish-_

And it was there I stopped writing. I could not put into words the pain I felt at what was happening to you, and you… you were angry enough with me. I wasn't about to get all mushy on you and say I wish I could take away some of the pain you felt or something like that, but I really do wish I could. It hurt me to see you hurting the way you were. I can remember the evening so clearly.

You see, Hawk, what affected me most was not what happened on the bus but what happened the Swamp once we got back. You looked rattled and worn out, so Potter told me to bring you back here (it's where I am right now) so you could get some sleep, saying that he and Charles could handle checking out the refugees. You complained. You "didn't need me to baby-sit you" and wanted me to just go look after patients. Instead, I sat down on my cot and looked at you, saying, "You should get some sleep," without blinking at the curses I knew you were muttering as you rolled over. I did the same a few moments later, receiving no response from my "Goodnight, Hawkeye". I have to admit, sometimes you remind me of Sherlock Holmes. Maybe not for your acute powers of observation but more because of your moods. Holmes would be tenacious and eager for information one day, then sullen and almost angry the next, not speaking to anyone… a black mood. That was definitely you, and, right then, you were in a black mood. I just let you sleep it off; you would feel better in the morning. I fell asleep with this hope in mind.

Then your screaming woke me up. I leapt out of bed and rushed over to you, scared to death for you. You were screaming incoherently, as though in pain or anguish or both, covering yourself as though you were under fire. I called your name, tried wake you, but you merely inserted the phrase "Get away!" into your screams. I shook you a bit harder. You retaliated by flailing violently, hitting me in the face; you busted my lip. However, I was still determined to wake you. By now, some of the people in the camp had come to see what was wrong. I continued to shake you, calling your name, dodging your flying limbs. I'm not sure of exactly what happened next, but your eyes snapped open, and one of your feet connected with my stomach. I felt my knees hit the ground as I tried to suck in air. You were standing up now, stumbling back before you tripped and half-crawled toward the corner of the tent behind my cot. It was there you wrapped your arms around yourself and began rocking and whimpering. I heard you start mumbling, "BJ… Beej, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," over and over. I struggled to my feet and walked over, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth, noting the blood. You were horrified still. I sat down beside you. All it seemed you were able to say was, "Don't hate me! Please don't hate me! Please…", then you were overtaken by sobs. I just put my arms around you, and you were soon clutching my T-shirt, sobbing and begging me not to hate you and not to leave you. All I could do was hold you and tell you I didn't and I wouldn't. You had somehow, in the course of your sobbing, maneuvered yourself to sit curled up against my chest between my legs. It was a bit uncomfortable, however, I could deal with the discomfort if it would help you feel better. You stopped sobbing after a little while, but you did not move from my embrace. I kept one hand rubbing your back and let the other play with your hair. I saw a jeep come in and heard someone greet a man named Sidney and got scared again. I didn't even realise that I gripped you tighter to me. In another one of our trying moments, I had vowed to follow wherever you went, even into the dark. Now… you had to one of the darkest places of all… and I couldn't follow to help you.

_"If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark."_

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**_Part 3 coming soon! I promise!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_I know... I know... you're all thinking 'FINALLY!!!!!' I admit, I got lazy with my updating. Please... take this chapter as a token of my forgiveness._**

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What can I say other than "I'm sorry"? I have to admit, I wasn't really thinking when I left Korea for the States. I guess I was just so excited to be going home that I didn't even think about your feelings. I can only hope you don't hate me. I also hope Radar left my message with you; it was all I had time for. Is Frank still giving you a hard time? Play a good one on him for me. Make him scream like a girl like he did that time we put snow in his cot. Or when we surprised him with Hot Lips. Boy… I could go on. We were great together, Hawk. We couldn't be beat. I just can't believe I found you right where I was at. You are the greatest and best friend I ever had or will have. We've been through a lot together, pal. I think that must be why we're so close. Especially after that time we were coming back from 8055th. You remember we had just dropped that Marine with the rest of his unit and were headed back to 4077th, singing to our hearts' contents. That's when the road blew up. Boy, we jumped out of that jeep fast, and it's a good thing we did, because the jeep blew up, too. I'm still not quite sure how that piece of shrapnel hit you in the neck. (I thought you were well covered.) I felt a sharp pain in my arm just as you cried out. You were holding your neck, blood trickling through your fingers; I was really scared all of the sudden. I started trying to my hands over the wound, as well.

"Wait, Trap, just look at it," you said, "We'll move our hands, and you have to check on it. Make sure it's not too bad. 'Kay, Trap?"

I don't know if how dead scared I was showed on my face, but I nodded and slowly moved my hands. Then your arms twitched to move your hands, but your hands stayed covering your neck. I saw fear in your face. The wound needed to be checked, however, so I gently took your hands and moved them away so I could see; you relaxed a great deal. I was incredibly relieved to see that it was just a nick. I pulled off that damn button-up shirt they always made us wear and began tearing it up so you would have a bandage. The thought of cold and night didn't really cross my mind as I tied the strip of Army green cloth around your neck. Then, it got cold because night fell. We sat huddled up together for almost an hour before I decided to keep us both a little warmer. I didn't even ask you if I could, I just put my arms around you under your Army shirt. You didn't say anything either; you just put your arms around me, too, just to keep me warm. I don't know if we fell asleep or not, but we got up out of the brush when morning came.

"Well, Hawk, I guess we got a bit of a walk ahead of us," I said with a smirk, "Better get started."

You agreed with a witty response (like always) as we started walking back to the 4077th. We walked for maybe thirty or forty minutes when you stopped all of the sudden. I turned to look at you; I'm quite sure I looked a bit puzzled. You just looked at me a bit worriedly and said, "Your arm, Trap," and started looking at it. I'd forgotten all about it. You had brought the rest of my shirt with you and wrapped a piece around the gash. Then we looked at each other for a moment before we mentally agreed to throw our arms one another. It was the biggest and best hug I ever gave or got… and the facet that it from my best friend made it even better.

My wife is asking me to come to bed now. I'll just wipe my eyes and wish I left a note to let you how much you mean to me, that I would do anything to help you, to save… even follow you into the dark.

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**_I can assure you that the final chapter will not take NEARLY as long to put up. If it does, feel free to hit me._**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Well... here you go! The final installment of Into the Dark! Hope you all have enjoyed it; I know I loved writing it._**

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I hate this place. I just utterly hate it. I'm surrounded by people who are sad or angry or detached from reality every second of every of every day. The guy in the room next to me, all he does is cry all night, until he wears himself out and goes to sleep. I sort of glad that I don't know what he's seen to end up like that. Another man tried to stab with a fork at lunchtime the other day because he thought I looked at him funny. One guy just wanders around all day and doesn't listen to anyone except "God", whom he believes is talking to him on a regular basis, telling him what he has to do every day. I can't stand it. I figure that if I write this to you, BJ, I can get a lot of bad stuff out of my head. I know you'll tell me to tell Sidney, but he wouldn't understand. I _need_ to tell you about what I'm feeling here. I want so _badly_ to go back to the 4077th, but I know I need help to be normal again. I'm so glad I haven't had anymore night terrors… like the one I had before I got sent to _this place_.

I don't even know exactly what happened before the dream. I just vaguely remember you dragging me back to the Swamp and me saying that I was perfectly capable of working. You just kept saying that Potter gave us the night off and that you were going to stay with me in the tent because didn't look so good. I told you that I didn't you babysit me. I was a big boy; I could tie my own boots and everything now. I told you to go look after some patients, and you didn't even blink at me. You only quietly said "You should get some sleep," so I rolled over on the cot, cursing you quietly. I heard your cot squeak and your blankets rustle as you did the same a few minutes later. Sleep was clawing at my eyes… and I gave in willingly. Then, the evil visions came to me.

I really don't want to tell you happened in the dream, but I know it'll help you understand what's happening to me. Maybe it'll even help _me_ understand what's going on inside my head… because even _I'm_ not sure. As much as it hurts me to say it, that woman silenced… whatever she was holding in order to save a lot of people. But in my dream, she didn't do it quick enough, and the North Koreans found us. They piled onto the bus and started taking prisoners. I tried, with your help, to herd a few people out the back of the bus to save some innocent people. Then, they shot me in the leg. Outside, I could hear what sounded like a firing squad. I was screaming pretty loud. You looked really scared and followed the refugees out the back. I screamed for you to stop, not to leave me, but you didn't hear me. You left me for the North Koreans. One grabbed me and shook me. I started thrashing to make him leave, yet he wouldn't go away. I hit him in the face and tried to keep striking him. Then I guess I opened my eyes and mistook you for the soldier and kicked you. After that, I came to. I saw you on the ground, clutching your stomach, and I realised what I had done. I staggered back toward the corner of the tent but fell, so I sort of crawled backwards. I just wrapped my arms around myself and rocked and whimpered and mumbled, "BJ… Beej, I'm sorry. I'm sorry," over and over. The next thing I knew, you were next to me. Somehow, all I could say was, "Don't hate me! Please don't hate me! Please…" before I was overcome by sobs. I prayed that you didn't hate me for hitting you. As soon as you put your arms around me, I knew you didn't. I just grabbed your T-shirt tightly and sobbed into your chest as hard as I could. I started to beg you not to hate or leave me. You pulled me closer, and I manoeuvred between your legs as you said, "Don't worry, Hawk. I don't hate you… and I won't leave you. I promise."

_But will I be leaving? Can I keep the promise to you, too?_, I thought, _I decided a while ago to follow you into the dark, but can I now? Will it even be possible?_

After I stopped sobbing, I didn't want to leave your arms. Perhaps I thought you could protect me from something I couldn't see. I felt your arms tighten around me; maybe you thought the same thing I did. Would you have followed me, too? I'm sure you would've… but where I'm at is the darkest it gets, BJ.


End file.
